Chapter 2 - The Promise I Couldn't Make
“What happens if I start loving her and she leaves me again?”
Maisie's question nearly brought me to my knees.
My sister Lauren sat across the dining table, crying quietly.
Thirty guests had heard everything.
And Luca Moretti, the most powerful man I'd ever worked for, was waiting for me to answer a question no mother should have to answer.
I knelt beside Maisie's chair.
“Honey, look at me.”
She shook her head.
“Please, Mom.”
I gently lifted her chin.
“I can't promise Lauren will never disappoint you.”
Her face crumpled.
“But I can promise something else.”
“What?”
“If she leaves again, you won't have to go through it alone.”
Maisie stared at me.
“I'll be there,” I whispered. “The same way I've been there every morning for seven years.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Even if I like her?”
I almost cried.
“Oh, sweetheart. Loving somebody else doesn't mean you love me less.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Across the table, Lauren covered her mouth.
Vanessa Bellini looked impatient.
“Well, now that we've settled that, perhaps we can stop treating this like a tragedy.”
Luca slowly turned toward her.
“Vanessa, enough.”
She blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“This child has just told us she's afraid of being abandoned again. You don't get to decide when she's finished being afraid.”
Vanessa looked toward the guests.
“I was trying to reunite a family.”
“Then why does everyone in that family look terrified?”
She said nothing.
I helped Maisie back into her chair.
Luca moved a small glass of water closer to her.
“Would you like everyone to give you some space?” he asked.
Maisie nodded.
He turned toward the guests.
“Please continue your dinners. This is a private family matter now.”
Chairs shifted.
Conversations resumed awkwardly.
But nobody at our end of the table moved.
Lauren looked at me.
“Rachel, may I explain something?”
I wanted to tell her to leave.
I wanted to ask where she'd been when Maisie had a fever of 104.
Where she'd been when my niece cried through her first Mother's Day school assembly because she didn't know whether making me a card would hurt Lauren's feelings.
Where she'd been when I sat on the bathroom floor at two in the morning, terrified that I wasn't doing enough.
But Maisie was watching.
So I said, “You can explain. Just don't make her promises you can't keep.”
Lauren nodded.
“That's fair.”
She wiped her cheeks.
“I've been sober for eighteen months.”
Maisie looked up.
“Does that mean you don't drink anymore?”
“Yes.”
“Ever?”
“That's what I'm working toward. One day at a time.”
My daughter considered that.
Then she asked, “Were you drinking when you left me?”
Lauren's expression collapsed.
“Yes, honey.”
“Because of me?”
“No.”
Lauren leaned forward, stopping herself before getting too close.
“You were never the reason I drank. I was sick, and I made bad choices. None of that belonged to you.”
Maisie stared at her shoes.
I could see her trying to fit those words into seven years of memories.
Vanessa suddenly pushed her chair back.
“See? This is exactly the kind of healing I hoped tonight would bring.”
Luca didn't look at her.
“Stop narrating their lives, Vanessa.”
Her cheeks reddened.
“There's no need to humiliate me.”
He turned.
“You brought a twelve-year-old girl into a room full of strangers and challenged her right to call the woman who raised her Mom.”
Vanessa looked away.
“I'm asking you not to do that again.”
For a moment, I thought the worst was over.
Lauren had acknowledged her mistakes.
Maisie was holding my hand.
Luca had made it clear nobody would separate us.
Then Vanessa reached for a cream-colored envelope beside her dinner plate.
“There's still the matter of the arrangements.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What arrangements?”
She opened the envelope.
“Lauren has been through a great deal to get here.”
Lauren frowned.
“Vanessa, what are you doing?”
“Showing Rachel that this wasn't some careless surprise.”
She placed two train tickets on the table.
The departure was Sunday morning.
Chicago to Milwaukee.
One ticket bore Lauren Collins's name.
The other bore Maisie Collins's.
I couldn't breathe.
“Why is my daughter's name on that ticket?”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“It's only a weekend visit.”
Maisie went rigid.
“Mom?”
I pulled her close.
“Nobody is going anywhere, sweetheart.”
Lauren stared at the tickets.
“Vanessa, I didn't ask you to book that.”
“You said you wanted time with your daughter.”
“I said I wanted to meet her.”
“A weekend would give you a chance to reconnect.”
Lauren shook her head.
“Not without Rachel agreeing. Not without Maisie wanting it.”
Luca picked up the second ticket.
His expression became frighteningly still.
“Vanessa, who authorized this?”
She hesitated.
“I made the reservation.”
“For a child whose legal guardian hasn't consented?”
“It was a gesture.”
“A ticket is not a gesture when the child believes someone is taking her away.”
Maisie began crying again.
I held her tightly.
The years of court appointments, school meetings, and sleepless nights seemed to crowd into that one moment.
Seven years of making sure she was safe.
And now my daughter was staring at a train ticket with her name on it, wondering whether the life we'd built could disappear overnight.
Lauren stood.
“I don't want her on that train.”
Vanessa stared at her.
“Lauren, we discussed how important this opportunity was.”
“We discussed meeting her.”
“And rebuilding your relationship.”
“Yes. Over time.”
Vanessa's expression changed.
“That's not what you told me last week.”
Lauren went pale.
I looked between them.
“What happened last week?”
She swallowed.
Then she looked directly at me.
“Rachel, there's something I need to tell you.”
My pulse pounded.
Lauren glanced at the ticket before continuing.
“When Vanessa invited me to Chicago, she told me you were struggling to raise Maisie.”
I stared at her.
“She said you wanted me to take over some of the responsibility.”
“That isn't true.”
Lauren looked devastated.
“I know that now.”
May you like
Then she said the words that made my daughter pull away from me in shock.
“Rachel, Vanessa told me you were ready to let Maisie come live with me.”
